


Roadhouse Blues

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-25
Updated: 2007-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8703808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Non-Related AU:  Ellen Harvelle had two children, fraternal twins. Only one survived, Sammy Harvelle. Six months after Sammy's birth, Ellen met another child that stole her heart. Dean Winchester. Over time, Dean, along with four other children, became a regular part of the Harvelle house. Until that day his dad took him away.  Now, 22 years later, Dean Winchester has found his way home.  The only problem is he doesn't remember.  It's up to Ellen to bring Dean back into her makeshift clan...and figure out how to protect her youngest boys from the evil that wants them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for the[](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_boc/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_boc/) **spn_boc** challenge on LJ. Unbeta'd. Feedback is really appreciated.

Dean Winchester never met his mother, at least not that he could remember. He was six months old to the day when she was killed in a fire the official reports claimed to be caused by faulty wiring.

His father, John Winchester, had been unsatisfied with the reports. John was certain that something just a little…unnatural had happened that night. He was right, as he later found out. And the longer he went without answers, the angrier he got, until one day, perhaps by chance, perhaps not, he met a woman named Missouri.

Missouri had a gift. She was a psychic, and she knew something dark, something evil had touched the Winchester family that night. So, she decided to help the two Winchesters by pointing them in the direction of a subculture most refuse to acknowledge exist; a subculture of unspeakable horrors and the men and women who hunt them.

Missouri pointed John in the direction of a retired hunter who in turn pointed John towards his first fateful hunt. On that hunt, John met an unnamed hunter who called himself, well, ‘Hunter’. ‘Hunter’ took John to a place where hunters of all sorts assemble, a place known only as ‘The Roadhouse’.

It’s here that we begin our story.

\----------------

_“John Winchester, meet Ellen Harvelle.” ‘Hunter’ tells John, motioning to the beautiful woman wearing a smile as she holds out her hand._

_“Nice to meet you, John.” She says warmly, her eyes flickering to the baby cradled in John’s arm. “And who’s this?” She asks. John looks at his baby son, tightening his grip just a bit as he answers,_

_“My son, Dean.” Dean makes a noise, smiling at Ellen, who smiles back._

_"How old?”_

_“Six months.” John states protectively. Ellen nods,_

_“Same age as my boy, Sammy.” She pauses, watching John for a moment before suggesting, “Why don’t I take Dean while the two of you talk?” John stiffens visibly at the thought of being away from his son, but ‘Hunter’ places a hand on his shoulders,_

_“It’s for the best, John. Ellen’s a wonderful woman; she’ll take good care of him while we do our business.” John doesn’t move or say anything for several long minutes before nodding tightly. Ellen smiles as she takes Dean from John carefully._

_“I’ll take good care of him.” She promises. John nods as ‘Hunter’ leads him to a table._

_Ellen cuddles Dean close as she heads for the kitchen where the stairs leading to the second floor apartment are located. She knows just from the look on John’s face that Dean no longer has a mother. It’s not the first time a man like John Winchester has come through the Roadhouse. Not many stay in her husband’s world of demons and nightmares, but if the barely concealed rage in John Winchester’s eyes is any indication, the two Winchester boys are settling permanently in the hunting world._

_Reaching the nursery, Ellen shifts Dean slightly to open the door. Inside is her son, six month old Sammy Harvelle, asleep in his crib. Suddenly glad they had never gotten rid of it, she places Dean in the second crib in the small room. The crib originally meant for Sammy’s stillborn twin sister._

_The moment she lets go of Dean, he starts to wail, causing Sammy to wake up crying. Sighing, she cuddles Dean close again, humming the first song that comes to mind as she crosses to Sammy’s crib and picks him up with her other arm. Almost immediately, both settle down. After rocking both until they are asleep again, she sets Sammy down first, pausing to make sure neither make a noise of protest. Then she puts Dean in the other crib._

_Only to have the same thing happen._

_Ellen repeats this process several times before changing tactics by placing Sammy in his crib, and Dean alongside him. Neither makes a peep and Ellen can’t help but grin._

_“Welcome to the Harvelle family, Dean Winchester.” She murmurs, backing out of the room and going back to the bar._  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few years, Dean Winchester became a somewhat regular part of the Harvelles’ lives. And he wasn’t the only child to find solace at the Roadhouse either.

After that first time with Dean, Ellen opened her doors to all the children of hunters that passed through the Roadhouse. She had birthed two children, and lost one, but Ellen Harvelle refused to let the hunters from her husbands’ world to risk their children’s lives’ simply because they had no one to leave them with. If her husband wasn’t part of that same hunting world, Ellen might have charged a fee for every child that stayed with her. She would have made a pretty penny, too. But her husband was a hunter in the hunting community, and she knew what most hunters were like.

Thus, The Roadhouse Daycare opened up unofficially, and probably a little illegally. Ellen gave the hunters with kids what they needed, a place to leave their kids that was not only safe, but free. She did limit space so that she only had up to three or four kids at a time, five at the very most. Some kids became regulars; other kids stayed only once, and were never seen again. There were babies, and teenagers; tantrums and fights; messes and chaos, but Ellen never complained. Not only were her maternal instincts satisfied, she got what she had wanted as a girl; a house full of kids.

All children were treated the same, like family, but there five regular visitors that Ellen would always have room for, the first and foremost being her best customer, Dean Winchester. Ellen loved Dean like he was her own son, and Sammy thought of Dean as a brother. When Dean was around, the two refused to be separated. The other four included a fatherless pair of siblings named Cori and Rex, a boy named Lee whose parents were both hunters and another motherless child by the name of Simon.

Over a period of about five years, the group of children grew together. Ellen kept them fed, schooled and happy while they were with her. At the request of their respective parents, Ellen helped the two oldest, Cori and Lee, advance their training, while at the same time, introducing Simon to the art of cooking and nurturing Sammy and Dean through their infant and toddler years.

All was well at the Roadhouse. Hunters came, hunters went; demons were killed, spirits exorcised and the six main children of the Roadhouse bonded with their surrogate mother.

Then Bill Harvelle went on a hunt with John Winchester.

~~~~~~~~

Cori and Lee were just entering middle school, while Simon was in his last year of elementary and Rex in grade three. Sammy and Dean were just about to start school when John showed up, asking Bill to help him with a hunt somewhere in New Mexico.

All six were staying at the Roadhouse when John called, saying he was going to need Bill’s help on his hunt. The dutiful hunter, Bill had gone, kissing both Ellen and Sammy goodbye.

Neither of them knew it would be the last time he would do that, and when John Winchester showed up three days late, he didn’t have to say a word to Ellen. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Her Bill was gone, and her already erratic life was about to become even more irregular.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_“I think it’d be best if you just left, John Winchester.” Ellen glares as the scruffy, tired looking man in front of her, the shotgun aimed at his head never wavering._

“Ellen, it was…” John starts to say,

“I don’t want to hear any of it, just get the hell out of my bar. Now.” John nods, jaw clenched, previously emotional eyes turning dark.

“Not without my son.” He starts for the staircase through the kitchen behind Ellen. Ellen steps in his way, shotgun still aimed at him.

“I think it’d be best for everyone if Dean stays here.” She says slowly. John’s eyes turning to stone.

“He’s my son, not yours, Ellen.” Ellen doesn’t move as she says,

"And I can take better care of him.” John’s countenance darkens with rage and he yells,

“Dean Winchester, get your ass down here, now!” Ellen rolls her eyes upwards as both hear a scuffle of feet on the floor above them. As the feet advance down the staircase rapidly, Ellen turns her glare back to John.

Dean slides to a halt between Ellen and John, back straight, eyes forward, facing John. John gives Ellen a smug look before saying,

“It’s time to go, Dean, get your stuff and meet me at the car.” Dean’s face falls, but he mumbles a quiet “Yes, sir.” before marching off slowly, shoulders hunched forward in defeat.

“You’re making a mistake, John.” Ellen warns, “You’ll just hurt that boy, you know that.” John watches Ellen, sadness flashing briefly across his face before his walls are firmly in place once again,

“Maybe so, but no matter what, he’s my son. Not yours.” With that, John turns his back on Ellen and walks out the door, pausing before he steps across it, turning slightly to glance at Ellen, “It’s not worth much, I know, but I am sorry for what happened, Ellen.” And he’s gone.

With a sigh, Ellen lowers the shotgun, setting it on a nearby table and blinking back tears. Her Bill, dead, because John Fucking Winchester couldn’t bother to watch anyone else’s back but his own.

"Aunt Ellen?” A small voice asks behind her and she barely holds back a sob. First he took her Bill, now he’s taking one of her kids.

With a watery smile, she turns to Dean, holding her arms out. He runs to her, hugging her tightly.

“I don’t wanna go, Aunt Ellen.” He says against her stomach. She nods, picking him up.

"I don’t want you to go, Dean-o.” She whispers in his ear, “But, you’ll always have a home here, I promise.” And with those final words, she puts down her surrogate son, watching him walk out of the Roadhouse for what she is sure will be the final time.

~~~~~~~~~~

**22 Years Later**

~~~~~~~~~~

“You need to eat…” Bobby jumps back as Dean slaps the fast food bag out of his hands. As it hits the floor, Dean jumps himself, before dropping his shoulders once again, all the rage floating out of him in an instant. He has been this way ever since they found out John was dead.

“I said I wasn’t hungry.” He says with no emotion in his voice. Bobby sighs,

“Dean, I know this is hard, but you have to keep going. Your daddy wouldn’t have wanted you to stop hunting.” Dean nods, crossing the room and falling on the ratty couch, the only place in the room not buried under books. Bobby sighs once again, deciding to drop the subject for now, “I need you to do something for me…” He switches tactics, smiling to himself as Dean looks up sharply, a look of interest on his normally blank face.

\---------

Dean slams the Impala door shut, eyeing the building in front of him warily. Bobby had asked him to deliver something to a woman named Ellen Harvelle.

The name had sounded vaguely familiar to Dean, just as this building he was now standing in front of looked familiar. He couldn’t shake the feeling he had been here before.

Shaking his head to clear it, Dean walks up the steps and tries the door, only to find it locked. Calmly, he glances around before pulling out his set of lock picks and making quick work of the locked door.

Upon entering, Dean finds himself in an empty barroom, the smell of smoke and alcohol heavy despite its emptiness. Cautiously, he advances towards the back of the room, to find a man lying on a pool table, either asleep, passed out, or dead, Dean can’t really tell.

He spies a door to his right and starts for it, only to stop when he hears the telltale click of a gun.

“Don’t move.” An unfamiliar male voice says before calling, “Mom!” The door Dean was heading for opens and Dean finds himself face to face with a woman he thought he had dreamed up.

She seems just as shocked as he is as she says,

“Dean?” He nods hesitantly, “Dean Winchester?” Once again, he nods, and this time, she nods, although to the man behind him, who clicks the safety back onto the gun, while moving around to stand with his mother. She smiles, “Hey, Dean. I’m Ellen, and this is my son, Sammy. Welcome home."


	2. Chapter 2

"Excuse me?"  Dean sputters, staring at Ellen like she suddenly grew an extra head.  She smiles sadly,  


 "I suppose you don't remember."  With a sigh, she goes behind the bar and pulls out two beers.  "Sam, go help Cori and Simon out back."  She commands, "Dean, have a seat."  Sam nods, smiles at Dean before disappearing through the door Ellen came through.    


 Dean hesitates where he is as Ellen takes the lids off the beers. When she looks up, she grins at him,  
   
  
 "We need to talk, Dean, and you're gonna want to be sitting when we do it."  Dean sits, eyes shuttered muscles tense.  Ellen pushes a bottle across the bar to him, "You're gonna need this too, kid."  Dean's eyes narrow at Ellen's word choice.  She chuckles, "You never did like that."  She raises her own bottle in a half toast and takes a long swallow.  Dean watches her, his eyes cold and calculating.  Ellen puts the bottle down and cocks an eyebrow at Dean, daring him to speak first.  


 "How do you know me?"  Dean demands, accepting the challenge.  Ellen doesn't answer for a long time and Dean begins to get impatient, when,  


 "Dean, what's your first memory?"  Ellen asks with a small sigh.  Dean gives her a startled look.  "It has nothing to do with your dad, does it?"  She states more than questions.  Dean's eyes widen fractionally, "I didn't think so.  What is it, Dean?"  Dean lowers his head, pulling the beer closer to him.  He watches it for a long moment.  


 "I remember a woman and another boy.  I remember lying in a bed with a cowboy blanket, wearing a pair of second-hand Hulk pajamas one size too small.  The woman walks in with the boy, holding his hand as she guides him to the bed.  He climbs into the bed while the woman sits on the edge of the mattress beside me.  She gives us hugs, tells us she loves us, and tucks us in.  As she leaves, she turns on a nightlight and leaves the door halfway open.  The boy gives me a hug and says he loves me.  


 "I can't remember their names, or where we were, nothing like that, just the general sense of...never mind."  Dean gives a one-shoulder shrug, swallowing a mouthful of the dark brew.  Silence falls like a blanket over the pair as Dean picks at the label on his glass bottle like the answer of life is hidden underneath and Ellen watches Dean with a pain long hidden in her eyes.  "It was you."  Dean finally whispers, slowly raising his head to meet Ellen's older eyes, "Wasn't it?"  Ellen nods once,   


 "It was me."  


 "What happened?"  Ellen's heart breaks at Dean's quiet voice takes her back to the day he was ripped from her life.  She sighs, walking around the counter to sit on a stool next to the shadow of the boy who she once kissed goodnight.  


 "Your dad took you away.  We, your father and I, had an argument and I kicked John out.  He refused to leave without you.  You were days from being five."  Dean just watches Ellen with an unreadable expression as a short brunette comes bouncing out of the same door Ellen entered and Sam exited.  


 "Did we get that stuff from Bobby yet, Aunt Ellen?"  She asks, skidding to a halt but catching her balance just to begin bouncing on the balls of her feet.  Ellen smiles softly at the girl,  


 "Well, I ain't too sure about that, Cor, but we might."  Ellen turns back to Dean, "Bobby was the one who sent you right?"  Dean nods stiffly, eyes never straying from the round-faced girl with glasses and pigtails.  Ellen clears her throat and he snaps his gaze back to her, she raises an eyebrow not only in amusement but with a demand.  He nods again, pulling an envelope out of a pocket inside his worn leather jacket.  Ellen takes it, sliding it across the counter to the girl, who grins at both before bounding out the door, only to come running back.  


 This time, her aim is off, and she doesn't stop until she hits the bar counter.  Her hazel eyes are wide and her mouth is hanging open,   


 "Dean?"  Dean glances to Ellen, who looks at the girl and nods.  The girl literally squeals, catapulting herself over the counter to land in an almost heap on the other side.  It doesn't seem to faze her as she jumps back up and launches herself at Dean.  Instinctively, Dean holds his hands up, tensing as she pulls him into a tight bear hug.  "I can't believe it.  Dean Winchester!"  She pulls away, "We never thought we'd see you again!"  Dean just stares at her, unsure of what to say or do with the almost crying girl in his arms.  


 "Cori."  Ellen says, firmly, but to no avail, "Cori!"  Ellen exclaims once again, and Cori jumps away from Dean.  "Get back to work."  Cori's mouth opens to complain, but Ellen holds up a hand, “No.  You'll have all the time in the world to reminisce later.  Finish your job."  Cori's mouth snaps shut and she mumbles,   


 "Yes, Aunt Ellen."  Before walking around the counter and out the door.  Dean looks at Ellen, his body still tense and his face shuttered.  


 "What the hell just happened?"  He demands and Ellen sighs again.  


 "That was Cori."  Is all she says.  


 "And who the hell is Cori?"  He demands, standing angrily.  


 "In a way..."  Ellen shrugs, "Your sister."


	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes:

Please, please, review!

* * *

       “My…sister?” Dean asks slowly, eyebrow rising delicately in disbelief, “How does that work?” Ellen sighs, knowing the entire conversation will take all night.  
  
       “It’s a long story, Dean,” Ellen tells the young man in front of her, standing and going to the still swinging door, “Cori! Lee! Wake Simon up and tell him to get dinner ready. Sammy, get your skinny ass down here, we need to talk!” Dean turns his gaze skyward as there’s a scuffle, several shouts, a groan, a thump, then feet pounding down stairs. Ellen rolls her eyes as there’s a somewhat feminine scream of “Cori!”, a crash, then silence.  
  
       At the silence, Ellen holds the door open and counts,   
  
       “1...2…3.” On three, the boy once holding the gun on Dean comes sliding through the door, arms held out halfway in semi-balance. He screeches to a halt halfway across the room, barely missing a table as he turns back to Ellen and Dean with an innocent look and wide smile.  
  
       “You called, mom?” Ellen grins.  
  
       “Sit down, you giant fool. There’s something I need to tell you boys.” Sam frowns slightly but takes a seat on the other side of Dean as Ellen places herself in her previous stool. There’s another shout upstairs and Dean points to the ceiling,   
  
       “Is everything alright up there?” Ellen nods,  
  
       “That’s actually normal. Anyway, Dean, this is, as I said before, my son, Sam. Sam this is Dean Winchester.” Dean turns in his stool to look at the baby-faced man next to him. Upon meeting Sam’s eyes, Dean feels a tugging at his heart and a young face whispering ‘Love you, Dean’ flashes before his minds eye.’  
  
        Swiveling in his stool, he meets Ellen’s all-knowing eyes.  
  
        “That…he…” Dean stutters as Ellen nods.  
  
        “Yes. That’s part of what I need to tell you” Dean faces forward, grabbing his beer and taking a swig.  
  
       “Got anything stronger?” He asks after swallowing. Ellen nods, moving around the counter once more. Sam finally pipes up,  
  
       “Someone wanna explain what the hell is going on?” Ellen stands in front of the boys, eyes flickering back and forth between the youngest children of the Harvelle family; one whose life has revolved around the other four, and one who was ripped from his place in the family at an early age. She sighs once more, pulling out a bottle of whiskey as she launches into the tale of those first years of childhood, beginning with the moment she laid eyes on a motherless Dean.

                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
         "You're trying to tell me that the first five years of my life were spent here...with Sam, and you...and that when your...husband...died...you kicked my dad out and he never came back..." Dean says in half a daze. Ellen nods, pouring him another shot of whiskey. He accepts it gratefully as Sam asks,  
  
         "Why don't we remember this?"  
  
         "Probably due to your young ages more than anything. The others remember, but I gave them explicit instructions years ago not to tell you, Sam." Ellen explains to her only biological son.  
  
         "Why?" Ellen lets herself heave another sigh.  
  
          "To protect you." She pauses, unsure of how to continue. The needed answer is delayed, however, when both Dean and Sam let out twin groans of pain. Ellen comes around the counter, "Boys?" She reaches Dean first; just in time to watch both of them fall to the floor with screams.  
  
                                              ~~~~~~~~~  
  
 _Flashes of heat trail along his thighs. It spreads throughout him, engulfing his body in an internal fire he has never known before…_  
  
                                              ~~~~~~~~~  
  
             Dean jerks his head violently as he comes back to his own body and mind only to jump once again as the warm arms holding him register in his vision-fogged mind.  
  
            “Dean?” A familiar voice calls hesitantly. He peels his eyes open with a groan and sees Ellen leaning over him. “Here, drink this, kid” Dean accepts the glass of water gratefully. Ellen helps him sit up to drink it.  
  
           Thoroughly parched, Dean finishes off the entire glass before looking around to see more people in the barroom than previously.  
  
           Ellen is at his side, as well as the bouncy girl from before. Dean thinks her name is Cori.  
  
           A few feet way, Dean sees a man and woman on either side of Sam.  
  
           An eyebrow rises, as it seems to be doing often in the past hour, and Dean looks to Ellen, who shakes her head.  
  
          “I have no idea, kid.”  
  
\---------  
  
          Twenty minutes later finds Dean and Sam sitting at the bar once again, with Ellen standing beside Sam and the other three people standing in front of them.  
  
          “Has that ever happened before?” Ellen questions, Dean shakes his head immediately as Sam draws a deep breath.  
  
          “I’ve been having nightmares lately, but never while I was awake…and certainly never like that…” He says quietly. Ellen’s eyes narrow,  
  
          “I knew about the nightmares…” Sam opens his mouth in protest but she cuts him off, looking at Dean as she asks, “Are you having nightmares as well?” Dean hesitates, Ellen nods once again, “Naturally.”  
  
          Ellen Harvelle turns to the other three occupants of the barroom, two females and a male.  
  
          “Simon, back in the kitchen.” The male, a short, pale, blonde man with a boyish face and almost violet-colored eyes wearing thrift store clothes nods and disappears quietly through the door behind the bar. “Cori, Lee, get back to the work you were doing before.”  
  
         “But Aunt Ellen…” Cori starts, but is cut off by the black-haired woman with bright green glasses, a faded Ride the Lightning shirt, simple jeans and wisps of what has to be an intricate tattoo swirling around the parts of her neck not hidden behind her curls.  
  
         “Not now, Cor.” She murmurs quietly. Cori meets her gaze steady for several minutes before relenting with a sigh,  
  
        “Fine.” A phone rings in the distance and Cori perks up. “That has to be Rex!” She exclaims and bounces off into the back once again; seemingly forgetting what happened a matter of minutes ago. Ellen smiles at the remaining woman,  
  
       “Thanks, Lee.” Lee shrugs,  
  
       “No big, Aunt El. Call if ya need us.” Ellen nods,  
  
       “Will do, darlin’.” Lee melts into the background of the Roadhouse leaving Ellen alone with the two youngest of her makeshift clan.


	4. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: Finally, November is over.  That means NaNoMo is over. It was fun and tiring and I'm celebrating the end of it by writing a new chapter!  :D  Forgive me if its no good, my brain is still sore. Still unbeta'd. Review please! :D Hugs for whoever does!  


* * *

Ellen paces the length of the barroom in front of the two men.  Dean alternates between watching her and studying Sam watch his mother with a frown of concern.

At one point, Sam glances at Dean as Dean looks at him.  Bits of a slightly foggy, yet intense vision float through both their confused minds simultaneously and they turn away quickly, blushes spreading across their faces.

                    --------------

A hand ran tenderly down his chest, pausing to pull gently at his nipples before a hot mouth followed the hand's southward trail.

"Please."  Came the breathy moan from his mouth.  The hand paused, inches from its destination and a head raised to meet his eyes.

"Tell me what you want."

"You.  Always you.  Only you."  He murmured, eyes closed.

"Open your eyes then.  Look at me."  The other commanded softly.  He opened his eyes to meet the other's dark, smoldering gaze.

"Sam."  He whispered, "I want you...Sam."  Sam nodded, hand moving once more as he surged upwards and stole his partners' lips in a deep kiss.

"I love you."  Sam whispered as they broke apart, panting together, "Dean."  And his hand touched its final goal as Dean arched off the bed...

                               --------------

They jerk their eyes away from each other as the memory of the vision floods their minds, only to see Ellen staring at them with a peculiar expression.

Dean cocks an eyebrow and adopts a smirk while Sam guiltily looks everywhere but his mother.

"I think someone better tell me what that vision was."

"No!"  Sam exclaims in unision with Dean.  Both look sheepish at the outcry and Sam picks up the slack by saing, "It wasn't anything bed, Mom, promise."  lamely.  Ellen nods skeptically.

"Ash!"  She yells, turning to glance at the man on the pool table as he jumps.  She looks back at the boys, "I have an idea."

"Is it closing time?"  The man on the pool table asks, his voice raspy and slurred with alcohol and sleep, mullet messed.

"C'mon, Ash, need your help with something."  Ellen said in answer and suddenly, Dean and Sam are alone in the barroom of the Roadhouse, awkward silence encasing them in their own little world of complete confusion, and silent, denied longing.


End file.
